


Nights Like This

by youre_a_wizard_sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Demonic Powers, Drinking, Explicit Language, M/M, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:57:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3535385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youre_a_wizard_sammy/pseuds/youre_a_wizard_sammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean had one amazing night together, years ago. But Dean is in major denial. Usually he simply pretends that nothing happened. But when he gets drunk, he gets angry, and he takes it out on Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nights Like This

**Author's Note:**

> I love Sam and Dean. They are wonderful people and would never act this way, especially not towards one-another. This is a completely made-up thing that would never ever happen. Dean is also pretty homophobic in this, granted it is all towards himself. But still, thought I should warn. I also use the term "bitch" in a very derogatory, homophobic way (which isn't okay in real life, this is just a story).  
> Also, I would like to discuss a few points about the rape content, but I will put them at the end notes so as not to give any spoilers.

The moment Dean stumbled through the motel door, reeking of whiskey and cigarette smoke, Sam knew how the night would go.  
The first time it happened was about a year ago. Dean was completely wasted and Sam had had a few himself. They had staggered in from the bar and were reminiscing about good times of their childhood (which were few and far between). One minute they were talking about the 4th of July, the next they were kissing. Neither of them really knew who initiated it, but it just felt right. It was something they had both been wanting for as long as they can remember. And that night, it was amazing. It was all lips and skin and breath and sweat. Both of them had been waiting for this, wanting this, for so long; it was almost animalistic.   
The nights after that one were not so great though. Most of the time dean would act like nothing had ever happened between them. Until nights like tonight, when he was drunk. And this night would play out just like all the others.  
Dean had slammed the door behind him, and was approaching Sam, who was at the table on his computer. Sam rolled his eyes when he saw that Dean had carried his almost empty glass back with him from the bar. Pathetic. Dean came up to Sam unsteadily and crushed Sam's mouth with his own whiskey-stained lips, not saying a word. Sam broke the kiss and gently placed a hand against Dean's chest, pushing him back ever so slightly.  
"Dean," Sam looked up at him with an annoyed expression and unwavering eyes, "don't."   
Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What's wrong, baby boy?" Dean slurred, "C'mon, I want you."  
"You're trashed, Dean."   
"So? C'mon. Know you want it too."  
Sam stood up, glaring down at him.  
 "Dean don't start this shit with me tonight." He put both his hands on Deans chest now, gently pressing him backwards out of the way.   
That's what did it.  
"Don't put your fuckin' hands on me!" Dean grabbed Sam's wrists and lifted them off of his chest, pushing him back against the wall. He held Sam's wrists against the wall and moved his face as close to Sam's as it could possibly be without touching. "You're mine, bitch," he said with squinted eyes, a smirk, and whiskey breath.   
Dean kissed Sam again and moved down to his neck, biting a little too hard.   
Sam drew in a sharp breath. Fuck. He hated when Dean acted like this, but he loved him so much. He knew he was in for a world of hurt, but how could he say no? It was this or nothing.  
So he let himself give in ever so slightly. He stopped fighting so hard to get his wrists free of Dean's strong hands. He kissed Dean back just a little. He savored the feeling of his brother's body pressed up against him, just for a moment. But giving in that little bit was all it took. It's all it ever took. The next thing he knew he was on the floor, his face against the carpet and his arms pinned behind his back by one of Deans hands. Dean was using his other hand to yank Sam's jeans down.   
How did you let it get this far? You know what happened last time. What happens every time. You know he's gonna hurt you. Stop him.  
Sam grunted and struggled against Dean. "Dean, stop!"  
"Aw, c'mon Sam, you know you like it."  
"Not like this Dean. Get the hell off me or I swear to God I'll-"  
"You'll what?" Dean mocked, "There's not much you can do right now, bitch." And with that a hand came down hard on Sam's ass.   
Dean shoved an unforgiving finger into Sam's dry hole. Sam let out a groan of pain through his gritted teeth and continued to fight it. Dean inserted a second finger, stretching his brother's tight hole.   
Sam grimaced as Dean fingered his ass, but not for long. Soon Dean's fingers were removed and Sam felt the tip of his brother's cock against his hole.   
He let out one last feeble plea, "Dean, please."  
But Dean had gone too far to stop now. He needed Sam, right now. And he was going to have him.  
Dean steadily pressed his cock into Sam's tight ass. Not very fast, but not slow enough. Sam cried out in pain, and a tiny bit of pleasure, he had to admit. I mean, it was Dean. He loved him so much. But Dean was hurting him. Dean, his big brother. The person that he trusted most in the world. The person who always protected him.  
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes, and he closed them tight, hoping that it would be over soon. Dean wasted no time executing deep, hard, thrusts that filled the room with the sound of their skin smacking together. With Dean as horny as he was, it didn't take more than a few minutes of those earth-shattering thrusts before he came, filling Sam's ass with his cum. Sam cringed as Dean pulled out of him, feeling his brother's cum leak out of his hole.   
Dean got up without a word and crashed onto his bed, and within minutes he was unconscious, and Sam went to the bathroom to shower. He turned the water on and as he waited for it to get warm he went to the sink. He looked into in the mirror for a moment, but he couldn't stand to look at himself. He put his face in his hands, his elbows resting on the edges of the sink.   
Why the fuck do I let him do that to me? Why the fuck does part of me like it? Something is seriously wrong with me. I let him completely take advantage of me. I am a bitch. Just like he says. But am I really letting him do it? Yeah, I could probably physically stop him if I tried hard enough. But he's got such a hold on me. Maybe it is rape. If I tell him no, then it's rape, right? But part of me wanted it. Oh just shut up, Sam, you pussy. Be a man. Men don't get raped.

~~~

Dean woke up the next morning with a pretty decent headache. He used to get awful hangovers, but after years of drinking, they weren't so bad anymore. He rolled over and saw Sam sleeping in the bed opposite of his own, and last night came rushing back to him. He got up suddenly and left as quickly and quietly as he could. He grabbed a to-go cup of coffee from the diner next door to their motel and started Baby's engine. He didn't plan on going anywhere, just a drive. And as he pulled out of the parking lot he recalled the events of the previous night.  
I remember going to the bar. Sammy had been working out in the room and he just looked so damn hot I had to get the hell out'a there. Muscles rippling, sweat dripping. I couldn't take it any more. I remember sitting at the bar, glass after glass of whiskey, a few beers in between. And I remember being angry. Being so angry at Sam.  
Why does he have to make me have these feelings for him? Why does he walk around looking so damn good all the time, teasing me? What the hell would Dad think?  
I've always tried to live up to his expectations. Always tried to be good enough for him. What would he say if he found out that I have feelings not only for another man, but for my own brother. I know what he would say. He would call me a bitch. Then of course he would aim his riffle at my head and kill me dead, right then and there. But I'm not a bitch. I can't be. I can't disappoint Dad like that. I am not the bitch.  
That's what I remember that I kept thinking last night. Sam just made me so angry and I had to prove that I wasn't the bitch. But did I really do what I think I remember doing? Did I really hear him scream the way that I think I did? How could I? How could I hurt Sammy? My Sammy? My little brother whom I've always vowed to protect? What kind of a brother am I? Hell, what kind of a person am I?  
Dean's heart dropped down into his stomach and he felt like he was going to throw up. He pulled the car over and did just that. He was doubled over in the grass on the side of the road, puking his guts out, and then he was crying. Was it the vomiting or the heartbreak that caused the tears? Probably a mixture of the two. Either way, they didn't stop. He clenched fistfulls of grass and dirt as he let himself break down. He let out the deep, gut-wrenching, painful sobs that make you feel like you're going to just explode with agony. This wasn't some macho, sniffle and a few tears cry. This was complete and utter heartbreak.  
And this was the cycle. He would be consumed with anger, self-hate and frustration, he would drink until he had had enough, he would take out all the anger on Sam, afterwords he would hate himself even more, and then it was back to the drinking. It started when Dean was 20, and the cycle repeated itself about every 6 months to a year. That's how much alcohol it usually took for Dean to be able to look himself in the mirror again.  
This time, Dean knew he couldn't bare to face Sam. When he went back to their room Sam was gone, probably out for a jog or something. Dean packed up most of his stuff and left a note for Sam.  
"Sammy, Gotta do some thinking. Take care of Baby. -D"  
And with that, he called a cab and left.

~~~

After a week, Sam still hadn't heard from Dean. He had turned off his phone, but Sam could still track it via gps. He saw that Dean was just a couple towns over, but he had no intention of going to talk to him. He knew that Dean wouldn't be gone long, since he'd left Baby. He had done this a couple times before. He was usually gone about a week or so and then returned, so Sam wasn't worried. He was really just pissed. Every second of every day, he thought about how angry he was at Dean, and at himself. The anger absolutely consumed him. All he could think about was how much he wanted to hurt Dean as much as Dean had hurt him. 

~~~

It had been about 2 weeks, at least that's how long Dean thinks it's been. His timeline is a little fuzzy from all the booze and the sleeping pills. Even with the help of both, he still couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured Sam. He had to have music or the tv on 24/7 because every time it was quiet he heard Sam. He had picked up a few trashy girls here and there to hook up with, but none of them could get Sam out of his head.   
Dean looked at the alarm clock, 3pm. Had he really slept that late? Oh well. He decided that he had to do something. Sitting in this motel room with nothing but Jack Daniel's and his thoughts wasn't getting him anywhere. So he called his closest friend (besides Sam).   
When Dean answered the knock at the door a few hours later and saw Jo with a smile and a bag of Chinese take out boxes, he felt more relieved than he could have imagined. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her blonde hair. 

~~~

"Dean.." Jo said with exhaustion and shock, "Oh my god. I can't believe you never told me any of this. And it's been how long?"   
"Well it's been going on for a few years now.. But I've been feeling this way since as long as I can remember," Dean had explained everything, and he thought it would feel good to get it off his chest, but he just felt ashamed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you. I know it's completely fucked up."  
"Dean. Do you want me to be honest with you?"  
"Maybe.."  
"What you did was absolutely horrible. Inexcusable. I am so disappointed in you. And I can't even believe that you did it. That you've been doing it this long.”  
Dean just looked at the floor. He knew that Jo was right. “But you're feelings are fine."  
"Fine? Fine?! He's my fucking brother!" Dean exclaimed.  
"Yeah no shit, Dean. But he's also the person who you have been closest to your entire life. He's the only person who you've always been able to trust. And you both love each other more than you'll ever love anybody else, because nobody understands you like you understand each other. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't blame Sam if he never wants to see you again. If he never trusts you again. But you have to try. You can't just hide from him. You need to apologize to him, or else you're gonna end up losing him for good."

~~~

It was late when Dean arrived back at the motel where he had left Sam. The words that Jo had spoken to him had hit him hard, and he knew that she was right. He had to at least try to make things right. Even if Sam never wanted to speak to him again, he would do anything not to lose him. He had to fight for him.   
As Dean grabbed his bag out of the cab and payed the driver, he saw Baby in the parking lot. He was very relieved to find that she was in the condition that he had left her in. He had half expected to see that Sam had busted her windows or slashed her tires. Seeing his beloved Impala in good condition gave him a bit of reassurance.  
Maybe Sam doesn't hate me after all.  
As Dean approached the door he saw no light through the window. He still had a key to the room so he unlocked it and entered into the dark.  
The room was silent.  
"Sam?"  
Still silence. Dean flicked on the light as he stepped further into the room.  
"Sammy?" He questioned a bit louder. But the room was empty. Dean moved forward to check the bathroom and as he did, he heard the door slam behind him. Dean instinctively whipped around and drew his blade, when he saw Sam's familiar figure.  
"Son of a bitch, Sammy! Where the hell'd you come from? You scared the crap out'a me!"  
Sam had a strange look on his face. An intense look, like he could see right through Dean.  
"Hi Dean. Nice of you to drop by. How've you been?" Sam inquired with a playful grin.  
"Uh, okay I guess. What's going on Sammy? You okay? You're kinda creepin' me out." Dean had lowered his hand but didn't put the blade away.  
"Oh I'm better than okay. See, a lot's happened since you walked out on me. I've been spending a lot of time with Ruby; she's been teaching me some really interesting things," Sam had the most ridiculously cocky grin on his face. "But I've missed you so much, we have a lot of catching up to do."  
With that, Sam snapped his finger and suddenly the dead-bolt on the door flicked shut.  
"Sam what the-" Sam cut Dean off as he waved a hand and instantly pinned Dean up against the wall, without touching him. With another flick of his hand, Deans blade flew out of his hand and lodged itself into the opposite wall.  
Dean struggled with all of his might but it felt like all of the gravity in the universe was holding him to that wall.  
Sam calmly approached Dean and chuckled, "There's no use, Dean." He continued closer until his face was just inches from Dean's. "See, you really pissed me off. And in light of recent events, I happen to be quite powerful. And now," he moved an inch closer to Dean and his eyes turned as black as the night as he whispered, "you're my bitch."

**Author's Note:**

> In the aftermath, Sam tells himself things like "It isn't rape if I wanted it" and "men don't get raped". These things ARE NOT TRUE. I am simply depicting Sam dealing with a lot of the feelings or misconceptions that rape victims are put through. It doesn't matter that Sam has feelings for Dean, or that Dean was drunk, or anything. What Dean did was rape and it was wrong.


End file.
